Page 107 of Marry in Haste
To Emm’s great relief, the dress arrived from the House of Chance in plenty of time and proved her fears to be groundless. It was stunning, and it fitted perfectly.
In the two days previous, she and the girls had embarked on an orgy of shopping. Gloves, scarves, shawls, shoes, boots, dancing slippers, habits, hats—the list was endless. And the season hadn’t even begun.
But tonight was to be Emm’s first appearance in London society, and she was understandably a little nervous.
She stood in front of the long cheval looking glass and gazed at her reflection.
“Oh, my, m’lady, you look lovely,” Milly murmured behind her. “I never seen such a beautiful gown.”
Emm hadn’t either; she had certainly never worn one. The gown was made of silver tissue that shimmered through the green gauze overdress like a wintry lake gleaming through the mist. The neckline was scooped low but was modest enough not to make her feel uncomfortable.
She felt beautiful, elegant and yet deeply feminine. She pirouetted slowly in front of the mirror. Milly had dressed her hair, piling it high at the crown and letting soft ringlets fall at the sides.
A whistle at the door made her jump. Her husband stood there, immaculate and dazzlingly handsome in formal dress. His eyes devoured her. “Lady Ashendon, you are a sight to behold. That dress...” He whistled again.
Emm smoothed the fabric with nervous hands. “Will it do, do you think?”
“More than do. It’s going to make me the envy of everyman there.” Then he frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “There’s just one thing missing.”
“What?” She whirled around and examined her reflection in the looking glass. “I can’t see anything miss— Oh.” She broke off as, from behind, he slipped a delicate gold chain around her neck. A dainty pendant hung just above the shadow between her breasts. It glittered. One large emerald surrounded by a host of tiny diamonds.
“Oh, Cal, it’s beautiful.”
“This?” He was trying to sound offhand, but she knew he was pleased with her reaction. “This is just a small thing—a part of the Ashendon emerald ensemble. It’s part of the entail and is handed down from countess to countess.” He placed a heavy box on her dressing table. “The full set is in there, for grand occasions: a proper necklace, several pairs of earrings and a bracelet. Also a tiara, but you won’t want that for an affair like this. This is a small party, so you just want something pretty and tasteful. But you might want to wear some earrings.”
She selected a pair of emerald teardrop earrings and fastened them in her ears. Emeralds. She’d never worn anything so grand in her life. Pearls were all she’d owned before, and she’d left hers behind when she’d left home.
Her husband’s eyes met hers in the mirror. “Would a kiss be permitted, Lady Ashendon, or is it hands off until tonight?” The slate-gray eyes burned with promise.
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Later,” she whispered.
***
It was all going beautifully, Emm thought. If this was a “small informal party”—there was quite a crowd, and even a musical ensemble—she would hate to imagine what a big formal one was.
She’d been introduced to a host of people, all of whom had been very kind. There had been dancing, which she hadn’t expected. Her hostess, Lady Peplowe, explained that the young people had begged for it, and confided that she thought it a good idea for girls about to make their come-outto acquire a little town bronze before the season started by attending informal parties like this.
“And where are your young ladies, Lady Ashendon? I understood you were launching three this season. Three! You have my sympathy. I’ve fired off two girls—both now married, I’m glad to say—and the third and last, Penelope there”—she indicated a robust-looking redheaded girl dancing with a laughing young dandy—“will make her come-out this spring. After which I will no doubt hie me to my chaise longue and go into a decline.”
Emm laughed. “I didn’t realize the girls had been invited.” She glanced around the room. “It’s a lovely party. I’m sure they would have loved to come.”
“Men!” Lady Peplowe shook her head. “I told my husband I should have followed up his casual invitation with a proper written one, but he assured me it was all in hand and that I fuss too much. What a pity. I thought your three might like to team up with my lone chick. It’s more fun for girls if they have friends.”
Emm knew very well that Lady Peplowe’s “lone chick” had no need to have friends found for her; she obviously knew most of the young people at the party. Her hostess’s kind consideration was for Emm’s girls, who knew practically no one. She thanked her warmly and they made plans to meet for tea the following afternoon.
Emm lowered her voice. “Lady Peplowe, who is that lady in the yellow gown—the tall one with the dashing turban?” Emm had caught the young woman staring at her a number of times, but as far as she knew, she’d never seen her before in her life.
Lady Peplowe squinted across the room. “Oh, that’s the Carmichael girl—married that fellow Jeremy Oates last season. Do you know her? Would you like an introduction?”
Emm shook her head. “No, thank you. I was just curious.” The name rang no bells at all. It was very odd.
Just then a gentleman came to ask Emm for the next dance, and for the next half hour she was well occupied. After the dance finished, Emm thanked her partner and,feeling rather warm, wandered out onto the balcony. There were plenty of people there, so she felt quite comfortable.
“You’re Emmaline Westwood, aren’t you?”
She turned. It was the woman in yellow.
“I was, but I’m married now and am Lady Ashendon.”
